Chapter Ten

Walking together away from the stables and through the wrought-iron archway towards the front door, Eliot jerked to a stop when Lina suddenly grabbed his arm.

“That’s the man Minette and I saw the other day,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

Only then did he notice the young man stepping out of the house as the door shut behind him. “Well, let’s see if there is a mystery here.”

Having spied their approach, the man stopped on the bottom step.

Eliot quickened his pace to be a step ahead of Lina for he could see the man openly ogling her. “Good day,” said Eliot. His brow furrowed for the man seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place him.

“You live here?” The man stared at Eliot. His eyes widened momentarily before he began to smile.

Eliot nodded, his frown deepening. Unless he was mistaken, the man had reacted as if he recognised Eliot.

“Is she your grandmother?” The man inclined his head towards the house. “Climence?”

Lina exclaimed softly.

“Madam Climence is our grandmother.” Eliot’s tone mirrored his displeasure.

“Yes, yes, Madam Climence.” His lopsided grin didn’t waver. “And the other woman must be your mother.”

Eliot didn’t answer.

The man’s gaze swept over Lina. “I can tell,” he said. “Beautiful. Like your mother.”

Eliot stiffened. In that instant, he knew where he’d seen this man before, with his faded charcoal frock coat. The day he and Renard had said farewell to Lord Jarek. The day the brick had been thrown at the Trade Building. By this man, he was sure of it. “Why are you here?”

“Madam Climence, she has a job for me. A very specific job, something that can only be done by someone with a lot of courage, someone like me.”

Eliot pressed his lips together to stop himself grimacing, sure he’d never met such a puffed-up cockerel before. But if he was right, and if this man had links with the Anti-Giant faction, he didn’t want him near his family. He wanted to ask about the job but remained silent, knowing Lina’s curiosity would get the better of her. And he suspected this man would prefer answering her.

Lina did not disappoint. “What does my grandmother want you to do?”

He drew himself up. “She wants me to.” He stopped mid-sentence, as if suddenly unsure of himself. Licking his lips, he shook his head. “You’ll have to ask her.”

Eliot decided to be direct. “Is it something to do with the tall-folk?”

The man’s head jerked back. “What-why, why would you say that?” His arrogance seemed to have dissipated.

“I’ve seen you before, in the city by the Trade Building. And I’m sure you remember me.”

He nodded, his expression hardening. “The man with the black horse. Too proud to speak to me,” he said, sneering.

“You threw the brick, didn’t you?” said Eliot, narrowing his eyes.

The man stared, his mouth turned down. “You don’t know that.”

“You ran in front of my horse, spooked him.”

“Shame he didn’t throw you.”

Breathing hard, Eliot took a step toward him, making him retreat, clearly unnerved. But Lina held Eliot in place with both hands on his arm.

Moving away from them, the man said, “Whatever you think you saw, you can’t prove anything. And this job is between me and her, nothing to do with you.” With a mock salute, he sauntered away, past the gate and out of sight.

Brother and sister stood in silence until Lina said, “Eliot–”

“Come.” He marched up the stairs and into the house. Raised voices issued from the morning room. His hand on the handle, he paused and glanced at Lina with raised brows before opening the door.

Climence and Marcelin were in the middle of an argument.

“Why?” demanded Marcelin. “Tell me why.”

“I do not answer to you or anybody. The conversation was a private one, you had no right to listen in.”

“As if that was my intention. I didn’t even know you had someone here with you when I walked in. And to hear you say–”

“You don’t have the right to question me.”

“I do when it affects all of us.”

“Don’t be foolish. Why should it affect you?”

Marcelin stared open-mouthed at Climence then threw her hands up. “You call me foolish then say that?”

“How dare you?” Climence drew her hand back as if to strike Marcelin.

“Stop,” said Eliot, drowning out Lina’s gasp.

Startled, they turned, only then noticing Eliot and Lina.

Eliot’s long strides overtook Lina, already hurrying to their mother’s side. “What’s going on?” He glared at Climence.

“You dare question me.” She jabbed at him with her closed fan.

“Is it to do with that man we saw outside?”

“I will not stand for this.” Her voice rose as a flush rose to colour her pale cheeks. “Let me remind you, this is my house. I am mistress here and I answer to no one.”

“Enough.” Marcelin’s calm voice cut through Climence’s tirade.

Before Eliot could respond, Lina said, “But–”

“No.” Marcelin placed her arm around her daughter. “There’s no point–”

“Exactly.” Climence turned her back to them and faced the window. “Leave. All of you.”

Eliot glared at the older woman, but Marcelin touched his arm and indicated they leave.

“I hope you’re not planning on discussing any of this when you’re out of my sight,” said Climence.

Marcelin paused at the threshold. “You do not dictate what I say or don’t say to my children.”

“Marcelin!”

But the rest of her words were lost as Marcelin shut the door behind her. “Come,” she said, looking at Eliot. “To your room.”

He had to smile; she’d chosen the one place Climence refused to set foot in.

With his mother in the armchair and his sister in the straight-backed chair, Eliot half-sat on his desk, facing them.

“That man,” said Marcelin, “I don’t know where he came from, how Mother found him. I didn’t even know he was here when I walked into the morning room. Before Mother could order me out, he introduced himself. Jacoby Tyce, he said, but he prefers Jack, not that I asked. I suppose she didn’t want to lose face by telling me to leave, so pretended to ignore me instead.”

“He told us Grandmother wants him for a job,” said Lina, “but he wouldn’t say what it was.”

Closing her eyes, Marcelin rubbed her forehead, sighing. “Where does she get these ideas?” she whispered, worry lining her face. “She wants him to steal from, from one of the tall-folk.”

“What.” Eliot leapt to his feet.

“Why?” said Lina, staring at her mother.

“I don’t know.” Marcelin shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s to do with that cursed faction she insists on funding. She won’t say. I told her not to do it, she won’t listen.”

Eliot stopped pacing. “I’m sure it is connected with the faction.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Oh,” said Lina. “That’s right, you told him–”

“I’m convinced he’s the man who threw the brick at the Trade Building window. I only remember him because he came up to admire Fordel while I was waiting for Renard.”

Marcelin groaned softly and leaned her head against her hand.

They sat in silence until Lina leaned over to hold Marcelin’s free hand. “I thought Grandmother was going to slap you.”

“If she had, I’d have done the same to her,” she said with a tired smile.

“Mama.” Lina’s shocked tone was spoiled by a giggle.

“We have to stop this,” said Eliot.

“I know,” said Marcelin. “I’ll think of something. I have to,” she finished softly.

“But if he’s going to steal from a tall-folk,” said Lina, sitting up straight, “he’ll have to go to Aiqos. Surely, he’ll get caught.”

“No. There’s one who lives alone on Cloud Mountain.”

“How does he know that?” said Eliot.

“Mother told him. And I have no idea how she came by that information.”

“I do,” said Eliot, frowning. “Garlon, who else?”

“Oh. Of course.” Marcelin flicked her gaze upwards. “So obvious now you’ve said it.”

“We should let Uncle Bertran know,” said Eliot.

“Have you forgotten?” said Marcelin. “He’s away for a few days.”

“Ah, it had slipped my mind.”

“Aunt Elisanna and–”

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” said Eliot, finishing Lina’s sentence. “I forgot that too.”

“I’ll tell her,” said Marcelin. “And she’ll tell Bertran when he returns. While they’re here, I want you to go to Uncle Leighton and tell him. Maybe Uncle will be able to make Mother see sense.”